We Just Missed Each Other
by JuliaAtHeart
Summary: Vaughn finds Sydney during her missing two years... but will he hold on, or lose her all over again? Please Review I'll give you a cookie or two! New Chapter!
1. Chapter 1

**We Just Missed Each Other **

**Author: JuliaAtHeart**

**Timeline: Set after The Telling. During Sydney's missing years. **

Summary: Vaughn finds Sydney, but will he look past Julia to see Sydney? S/V, S/Simon, J/I, V/L. Yay Shippers! 

**Rating: M for disturbing material, language, and adult situations in later chapters.**

Disclaimer: I don't own Alias, or anything close to it. All characters belong to JJ, except the ones I made up.

**A/N: Italics are the thoughts and notes, and anything in between are dream sequences! The dreams are told from that character POV. So if I were dreaming it would be from my point of view in first person. Thanks for reading!**

**A/N: I am having a few issues with Julia/Syd. I can't figure out if I should say, "Sydney stood and walked…" or "Julia stood and walked…" because they are different people, and they switch…. Oh well. I guess this was a way to let you know I don't think that part is very good and bare with me, because I promise this story will get good… eventually! **

**A/N: One last note to readers waiting for other stories: School started and while I promise to finish Cold-Blooded Killer I don't know when it might happen! And no, I have not forgotten Dark Revenge… but my muse is on vacation in this story! **

**PLEASE R/R!   
**

**Chapter One**

The call had come in the middle of the night, the shrilling noise disrupting the sweet silence.

Vaughn shifted and lifted his cell phone, groggily answering it, "Hello..." He said trying to keep the sleep out of his voice.

"Good evening Agent Vaughn, this is Kabual Hertigh. We worked together in India, some time ago."

Vaughn's mind did a quick search, trying to place the voice and name. It was familiar, and suddenly he remembered the tall burly man. Kabual had worked with him New Delhi, and then again a few months ago.

"Oh yes. How can I help you?" Vaughn was puzzled, what could he possibly need?

"It isn't how you can help me, it is how I can help you." Kabual spoke in a hushed tone, and Vaughn pressed the phone to his ear.

"Ok..."

"We need to meet. Tonight if you could manage it."

Vaughn rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Sure. Did you have a place in mind?"

"The pier." And with that the line went dead.

Vaughn stood, and pulled on a discarded blue sweater.

"Where are you going?" He looked down at the bed; Lauren was propped up on her elbow, he hadn't meant to wake her.

"I need to meet a contact, but don't worry I'll be back soon." He bent down and kissed her cheek softly.

Seemingly content she sighed settling down on the queen size bed and turned over returning to her dreams.

Vaughn pulled on his sneakers and headed to the front hall trying to find his keys in the dark. Switching on the light, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror; his face was lined and tired which didn't surprise him. Never before could he remember a time when he was this drained. Shaking his head he grabbed the keys and proceeded out the door to his car.

The pier was deserted, other than a tall man leaning on the rail starring out into the ocean. Kabual hadn't changed, as far as Vaughn could tell; he was still thin and lanky. The only considerable difference was that Kabual, who had always been at the pinnacle of health, looked sallow and as tired as Vaughn felt.

Vaughn approached and stood beside him. For a moment neither spoke nor moved. With the music of the ocean playing in his head, Vaughn began to remember the last time he had meet someone here. It had been Syd... no he wouldn't think of her tonight. It took to much strength the shut that door after it had been opened. If Kabual said it couldn't wait, then it must be urgent; he needed to be able to focus tonight.

"I have some information for you." Kabual said quietly, and pulled out an envelope.

Vaughn reached for it but Kabual held it clasped in his hand, his eyes starring out into the ocean, trying to find the horizon in the night, an impossible task.

"Three months ago, you asked me to help you find a certain agent. So I looked everywhere. But it wasn't until I got back to Los Angeles that I found information." Kabual spoke softly, but Vaughn heard every word. In fact, the words seemed too loud for him to comprehend, the knowledge too delicate for him to begin to consider it.

Moments passed and Vaughn gathered his thoughts before speaking.

"Are you telling me you found Agent Bristow?" His voice caught on her name but he remained alert.

Kabual nodded, "I got my man into the CIA, to try to find out about her past aliases, and special skills. Accidentally he found her, through Director Kendall." Vaughn felt as though someone had hit him and he gripped the railing, his knuckles turning white.

Kabual handed him the envelope, "I hope this cancels any debt left between us."

Vaughn just nodded and starred at the unmarked envelope in his hands. He waited until he could no longer hear Kabual's footsteps before moving to open the envelope.

There were five pictures, all of the same woman. At first glance Vaughn didn't recognize her, she was blonde, her body toned to perfection, however much thinner than Sydney had ever been. But the face was the same, the same eyes.

She was walking on some unmarked street, face in a smile, a grin, a smirk, a grimace. One picture she held a gun, pointing at someone Vaughn couldn't see. In another two men were beating her. In the third and fourth she sat in a café drinking, what looked like an espresso. The last picture made him gasp with confusion; Sydney was dancing with a man, her head resting on his shoulder completely relaxed. None of this made any sense but Vaughn didn't care. What mattered to him was that in each picture he knew, without a doubt, it was Sydney.

_Oh god, Syd I found you _

It was all he could think and his hands began to shake. Carefully he examined the pictures again, making sure he wasn't mistaken. He let out a breath he had been holding for ten months; since he had gotten the call that Sydney's apartment had been burned down.

Hope and relief were joined by fury. Kabual had said these pictures had been in possession of Kendall.

That bastard had kept information about Sydney secret from him and probably Jack too. He had always known that Kendall hadn't liked him and Jack, but to keep this information a secret was unforgivable. He had a quick urge to dial Jack, but opted not to, at least until he had spoken to Kendall.

Vaughn straightened and before he tucked the pictures into his jacket he glanced at the date. All the pictures were dated two weeks ago. With hate spreading inside, fueling a dark fire Vaughn began walking towards his car. He was going to go see Kendall.

He was halfway home when he realized that Lauren would still be in his apartment. He couldn't imagine even speaking to her. Now that he knew Sydney was alive, he couldn't even think about Lauren in the same way, his heart was Sydney's. He turned the car around and headed toward JTF, fuck it, showering would come later. Right now showering could wait; all he wanted was to talk to Kendall.

When Vaughn arrived at JTF he found it almost empty, except for Marshall who was sleeping in his office on a big pink blowup chair, and a few rookies on computers. Without pausing he went straight for Kendall office, and sat down on the comfortable couch. Hour passed and Vaughn sat, starring at nothing in a coma like trance.

Almost four hours later Kendall walked into his office, carrying a cup of coffee and the morning paper. He jumped, spilling coffee on the floor, barely missing his tie. He glared at Vaughn who just sat there; it took a moment for Kendall's arrival to register in his mind. Vaughn stood abruptly and clutched the pictures in his shaking hand.

"Agent Vaughn you're looking awfully haggard, no time to bathe?"

"Cut the crap Kendall!" Vaughn's voice was gruff, from hours of silence.

"How can I help you, Agent Vaughn?" Kendall looked at him curiously.

"You can start by explaining these to me, and why they were in your possession." Vaughn threw the pictures at him, and waited.

Kendall paused and then looked at the pictures, his eyes darkening.

Kendall took a deep sigh, "Agent Vaughn, I have no idea how you found out about Bristow, but I am telling you right now: You tell anyone, and I will have you thrown into a cell for the rest of your life!" He was starring at Vaughn, who still hadn't moved since he had shown Kendall the pictures. 

"I want to know what happened to her, I want to see Sydney!" Vaughn was shaky, but his voice was firm.

"That's the problem Agent Vaughn, Agent Bristow is gone, and this isn't your Sydney." He said her name with a touch of distain. He apparently didn't want to continue, but seeing Vaughn's confusion he was forced to continue. " Agent Bristow has been effectively brainwashed into believing her name is Julia Thorne, a assassin working for a terrorist organization."

Vaughn looked appalled, he had not been expecting anything of the sort, shaking his head he said, "I don't believe you. Syd... Agent Bristow can't be brainwashed, she has extensive Project Christmas training, she has undergone several torture..."

Kendall cut him off, "If you believe that Project Christmas nonsense, you're not half as smart as I had hoped," Vaughn stared at him confused. 

"Shit, Vaughn. Project Christmas was faulty at best, which is why we didn't develop it further. That is why Irina left Jack; he had no more Intel, because the operation was nixed..." He took a deep breath, "Project Christmas was a tool Jack used to assure himself that Irina wouldn't get to Sydney. He needed to believe it, to be able to move on. That is why he holds the procedure in such high regard, in his mind it saved his daughter." 

Vaughn was dumbfounded, moments passed before he spoke again, "I want to see her! I need to be sure Sydney is gone." 

"That isn't an option, if we could get anywhere near her, believe me she would be in CIA custody." Kendall laced his fingers and leaned back in the chair. 

"If you don't help me, I will do it on my own and that wont be a pretty sight now will it; especially when Jack finds out you kept this from him." Vaughn's forehead was creased with wrinkles. 

"Are you threatening me?" Kendall glared. 

"No, I am informing you of my plan of action." Vaughn was leaning on the table, his voice strained. 

"And if you see her, and realize Sydney is gone? I would have to fire you; I couldn't take the risk of keeping you around. You know too much as it is, this is level ten information. Anything regarding Bristow would need to be cleared by the Security Council, even if I wanted to send you I would still need to get their approval. And as you have guessed, even Jack doesn't know. Hell only Dixon and I have even seen this information. So what do you propose I do?" 

"If you take me to her, let me see her... and I will leave the CIA." Kendall looked up in shock. 

"Vaughn, your word won't mean much to a room full of men who want to save their own asses. They would need something full proof, and I have to warn you; What ever it is it won't be good, easy or fair. So now I ask you, do you want me to make the official request?" 

"Yes."

"Fine, but you don't say anything to anyone, including Jack and Ms. Reed," Vaughn nodded, "I'll contact you with information." Kendall had adopted a rather grim look, and rubbed his forehead. A few moments passed and Kendall looked up at Vaughn who was frozen looking at the pictures on the desk; he looked like hell, tired and dazed.

"Go get some sleep in the med ward, I want you at work in four hours." Vaughn nodded and turned to go. "And don't forget to shower!" When he was out the door Kendall picked up the phone and dialed Dixon, who answered on the first ring.

"Hello."

"We have a problem, Vaughn has found out about Project Jules…" Kendall was cut off before he could say more.

"How?"

"I don't know, but we need to formulate a course of action. I've been able to stall, but he expects me take this to the Security Council, official request."

"I'll be there within the hour."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**AN: I wrote this really fast… I don't think the rest of the updates will go this fast. I'll be on holiday in Amsterdam starting Thursday!**

**Cheers! (Please review) **

**Part One **

"You will just have to wait. We can't risk exposing you right now, this is the safest plan of action." Kendall massaged his temple, first Vaughn now Sydney. Today was turning out to be hell.

"Kendall, I want to see my dad and Vaughn. I have waited almost a month; I have done everything you have asked, given you good information. And now I just want to talk to the people I love." Sydney sounded near tears, but this was how almost every conference call went. She would give him information and beg to be extracted.

"Look, Agent Bristow I understand your frustration, but by coming to Los Angeles you risk exposing yourself and those whom you love to the Covenant. Give me another month and I will find a way to let you see them." Sydney sighed and Kendall heard her sniffle.

"Alright, one month. But then I want to see them." He adjusted the phone and tapped out a beat on the table.

He hated lying to her like this, but it was necessary. "Ms. Bristow let me just warn you, 10 months can change people, people like Agent Vaughn."

He heard her scoff, "If Vaughn loves me the way I know he does, 10 months is nothing."

"Ok." Kendall breathed deeply and glanced across the table to a troubled looking Dixon.

"Syd, we miss you." Dixon spoke softly.

"Yeah, I miss you guys too. I just wish I could come home..." She stopped, and there was silence. "I have to go, Simon is back with his team! I'll make contact after Paris." She hung up.

Dixon put down the hand-held and ran a hand down his face. "We are lying to her."

Kendall looked up and coughed, "It isn't like I enjoy doing this, but she is our only window into the Covenant. Without her, we don't stand a chance. So for now, we need her to stay there."

Dixon nodded, "What are we going to do with Vaughn?"

"We send him to her and let him see Julia in action. He will believe us, before now I would have never thought she had it in her, but after seeing Julia. Well, lets just say, Julia Thorne is a monster. Vaughn will see it and come running back to the Senators daughter."

"So when Sydney comes to visit he will be with Lauren." Dixon hated all of this but Kendall was right Sydney was too much of an asset to lose.

Kendall looked to his computer screen, "I am sending Vaughn to Paris, Julia and Simon have a job there next week."

"But when he get back he might not want to let this go…" Both men sat in silence trying to find a comfortable solution.

"In the past month our lab has been developing a toxin that alters memory, it is formulated to remove periods of time from the test subjects memory." Kendall said all this without looking up.

"Is it accurate?"

"It looks that way. The reports I've read show that the time period in question fades and with this sort of memory loss the chances of recovering lost memories is highly unlikely. I think that if we were able to get Agent Vaughn to agree to this procedure, we could couple it with hypnosis." Kendall toyed with a pen and looked across the desk at Dixon, who was frowning, but listening intensely.

"Therefore we could not only remove the information from Vaughn, but also give him a sense of unhappiness of remaining with the CIA. Of course, any physician would diagnose all this as Post Traumatic Stress." Dixon still hadn't moved or said anything; in his heart he was fighting with Sydney's voice, perhaps his own conscious. Though he knew that this path of action would not only benefit the CIA, but the NSA and the whole of the intelligence community.

"Alright. But we give him the initial option of removing the memories, if he doesn't chose to do it, we will do it for him."

"Why take the risk?"

"Because if Julia is as bad as the reports say she is, Vaughn wont be able to handle it."

"Fine."

Dixon knew that someday he would tell Sydney; he just hoped she would find it in her heart to forgive him. He stood and acknowledged Kendall before exiting toward his office.

It was days like these that he hated himself, and as he had numerous times he wished he could tell Jack. But Kendall was right, telling Jack would just complicate things. It was dangerous with the Covenant gaining power so quickly; he didn't need to add Jack Bristow and Irina Derevko to the mix.

In his office he sat down pulling a file from the locked cabinet, 'Jack Bristow' was scrawled carefully on the file. Opening it he starred at photographs of Jack and Irina standing closely, examining what looked like a map. Though he didn't want to, he knew he would have to report Jack to that new NSA ass Lindsey.

Robert Lindsey thought he was god, that bastard had the whole of JTF under his thumb. Of course it didn't help that he golfed with the president once a week at Camp David, nor was it wonderful that he was right out of Washington. These two facts, combined with his love for the unemployment of his underlings had made Dixon's life a living hell for the past six weeks.

At first he had tried getting rid of Vaughn, who had been borderline rouge, but an annoying daughter of a Senator had changed his mind. Now his focus was solely on Jack, who appeared to have a serious disregard for protocol and rules. Dixon had tried warning him, but Jack was hell-bent on finding Sydney, who he was sure was alive and well. Though Dixon wasn't privy to Jacks sources he had no doubt they were accurate; he no longer had a choice. Jack needed to be stopped, suspended, relieved of his duty; it didn't matter, as long as he didn't find the truth about Julia/Sydney.

Dixon sat a little straighter and picked up the phone, placing a call to Lindsey. He was betraying both Bristows, and neither of them deserved it.

**Part Two **

Bob Lindsey reclined in his big armchair, taking a sip from his coffee. Dixon was turning out to be more of a team player than he had given him credit for, and if he continued being so helpful Lindsey would just have to tolerate him. Yes, he could tolerate Dixon, but Jack Bristow was out. Not only was he out, he was destroyed; there was no way the Security Council would over look such telling information.

Lindsey removed the pictures from the fax, and grinned wider. Jack Bristow was an unbearable pain in the ass, and now he would be taken into to custody for working with a known terrorist, and conspiring against the Untied States of America. No one would cut him slack, not after all the protocol breeches he had caused. It was amazing that man had managed to retain his position thus far, and the pictures where just the final nails in the coffin. Jack Bristow was history, and as for his search for the fabled Sydney Bristow, well, it didn't take a genius to see that it was just the desperation of a feeble old man, distraught over his only child's death.

Lindsey stood and placed the incriminating photos into an envelope along with an extensive debrief, written by his favorite agent, Lauren Reed. All he had to do was wait until Kendall was reassigned, then he could easily remove Jack Bristow.

**Part Three   
**

She lifted the gun calmly, pointing at the elderly bald man. He was innocent, but Julia didn't care. No, Julia Thorne killed for the fun of it, she relished the feel of the cool gun in her hand and that miraculous pull-of-the-trigger. Any spectator would see the glee in her dead eyes as the chamber emptied, sending its contents into the withered flesh of the innocent old man.

She rotated her shoulder and stretched a bit, then stood up from the couch she had been occupying. She was a dazzling sight, almost too beautiful and deadly to be real. Her once brunette locks were a soft blonde shade and reached past her shoulder blades, curling defiantly at the ends.

She was dressed in black and red, always black or red as though some other colors would shatter the deadly nature of her job. At the moment she wore a pair of low sitting black jeans, and blood-red hater and her favored black leather jacket. Those who lived to tell of her crimes against mankind often referred to her as the bringer of death, because that was all Julia Throne brought with her.

Julia was nothing like the woman who had once been the dominant being in her body. She didn't share her tastes in men, music, careers; they didn't even abide by the same moral code. The only aspect that hinted at the woman buried deep inside, were the calculating brown eyes, which appeared closed off to emotion.

The submerged woman rarely surfaced and most of the time it was Julia ruling in that glorious body, but lately she had found a way past the barriers of her mind and into the world. Of course no one, other than her CIA contacts, ever witnessed the brown eyes spark to life, everyone accepted that their striking assassin was devoid of emotions.

What they couldn't see, was the woman behind the shrewd coffee eyes, the woman who hated herself and the gun in her hands. No one had seen Sydney Bristow in over ten months; even she had forgotten the strong warrior she had been, only to be reminded in her nightmares.

If it hadn't been for the nightmares she would have been lost in Julia, but now Sydney was reemerging and working against the Covenant. Their brainwashing had worked, to an extent. Then as soon as she had stepped into the world, Sydney had found ways past Julia. Strangely enough, it had been the feeling of a gun in her hand that had awoken her.

Now, because of her cooperation, the CIA had a clear view into the workings of the Covenant, and she knew how valuable her information was.

Kendall had made sure she understood that remaining in the Covenants good graces was essential, but now all she wanted was to get home to her family. Only one more month and she would be free of Julia.

As the months had worn on Julia's voice had receded, but still remained dominant in her head. This was most likely a good thing, because it enabled her to keep up the pretenses of the brainwashing, even Simon had not noted the change in her.

As though he had sensed her thoughts he appeared behind her, tucking away his pistol, "Julia…" he approached behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, "I got the disk; lets get going."

She nodded then turned, still encircled in his strong arms bringing her lips up to his. The kiss was everything but gentle, Julia was never gentle; she liked everything to be rough.

He bent down and lifted her, pressing her up against the wall; she brought her legs around his waist, smirking all the while. Sydney would have never allowed any of this to happen, but Julia welcomed his kisses with fervor.

"Mmmh," Simon let her down, and starred into her eyes, grinning. "As much as I would love to continue this, we have a helicopter waiting for us."

"You aren't any fun." Julia rolled her eyes and brushed past him on her way out of the room.

Simon shook his head, and looked around the room. He paused at the dead body, and quirked an eyebrow, "Umm... Jules? Might I ask why you killed the gardener? I mean he wasn't our target… Julia?" He caught her by the arm as she collected her semi-automatic from the table in the corner.

Swinging it onto her shoulder, she replaced her favored Berretta Cougar in the waistband of her pants before turning and smiling, "I know, but I was bored and he was there and I had a gun… should I go on or have you gotten the gist of the matter?"

"No, I got it! Thanks." Taking her hand in his they made their way up two flights of stairs and to the helicopter that was waiting for them on the top of the mansion.

"It's a nice house, too bad it's drenched in blood now… I would have liked to buy it…" Julia pondered out loud as they jogged up the stairs.

Simon smiled and gave a husky chuckle, "And whose fault is that?"

Julia gave a snort and tried to hide the smirk that adorned her face; sprinting to the master bedroom, which led to their extraction point.

They exited the balcony and raced for the edge, there Julia leapt and with her free hand grabbed the rail, hauling herself into the helicopter, which was suspended a few feet from the edge of the terrace railing.

Once inside, she stuck out her left hand and waited for Simon to throw her the bag with the disk inside, before he made the leap himself. Catching it with ease she felt the helicopter jerk as Simon pulled himself up.

Julia grinned and strapped herself in for the half hour flight, then watched as Simon made contact with a Covenant server on his laptop. The disk, which contained passwords for different banks in the Grand Caymans and Switzerland, was the perfect way to monitor all assets and make sure they weren't pulling a few extra million.

Simon pressed the send button, and then scanned the list, looking for familiar names. He chuckled a few times and pointed out people who were making money on the side; Julia wouldn't be surprised if the Covenant ordered the murder of these people.

She continued to scan the list and stopped at, 'Andrian Alexander Lazeray'; his accounts totaled to a little over 800 million dollars, but strangely they were all in a trust with a co-signer, 'Julian Sark Lazeray'.

Could it possibly be Mr. Sark? Sydney emerged for a moment to memorize the account number. If it were Sark, the CIA would want to know. Before she could look for more accounts under that name Simon shut the computer and put it away, leaning back in his seat.

The flight was too loud to talk and Julia just leaned against Simon's chest. She sat and thought on the mission they had just completed, and the man she had killed. It wasn't as she had explained to Simon. The gardener had witnessed her giving her CIA call-sign on her private cell phone. He had been innocent, but she couldn't take any chances, she couldn't leave him alive.

Sighing she let a little of Julia slip away, and a little of Sydney emerged. It was dangerous, these few moments of downtime but she needed to relax. Still she could hear Julia in the back of thoughts.

Sometimes it was easier to give into that voice than fight against it.

It was easier to forget Sydney and accept the urges of Julia. Simon was one of those urges; he was one of the more pleasurable urges. Sydney shook her head; she hated Simon.

He was the opposite of every man she had ever loved. He was cold and sardonic nothing like Danny and Vaughn.

Vaughn. That name made her feel broken inside. Kendall had made references to him, to his faith, but that wasn't possible. Vaughn would never give up, he would search forever, what they had shared was too soul shattering for him to just give up after ten months.

Closing her eyes she chose to have faith in Vaughn, if he loved her the way she knew he did, then he would have waited. Michael Vaughn was in LA waiting for her, and in one month she would show up on his doorstep and everything would revert to the way it was supposed to be.

All she had to do now was get through Paris, which threatened to be gruesome. The job revolved around an ex-Covenant agent, who had defected. She and Simon were going in posing as CIA, which was ironic in itself, looking for Intel.

The sad fact was that there was no counter mission from the real CIA, in fact Kendall had told her to see to it that the man didn't fall into the wrong hands.

The CIA had virtually signed his death certificate by declining to take interest in the knowledge he offered. Roger Howard would be dead at the end of the week, as soon as she and Simon had discovered the extent of his betrayal. Not only that, but they also had to find out which of his contacts had deflected too, and those people would be dealt with as well. This was just the kind of job Julia was good at, murder with a hint of intrigue.

The helicopter gave a lurch and Sydney lost herself in Julia again. She looked outside, studying the landscape of the hills of Spain, and the helicopter descended to touch down in the middle of a large villa. This was all hers, all the land, the house, the expensive cars in the garage; even the helicopter belonged to her. Of course it was all stolen, or bought with blood money, but Julia didn't care, she liked it that way.

La Villa de la Rosa was one of her favorite haunt, a small villa right outside of the small city of Castelló, Spain. The nearness of the Mediterranean and the vast expanse of the land gave Julia the sense of freedom, which she prized.

Next to her Simon stirred and grabbed the bag, preparing to jump out. When they were a few feet off the ground, Julia pulled open the door and soared out of the helicopter.

Turning she caught a glimpse of Simon as he jumped. He was a wonderful specimen of the male gender. Marvelously tall, dark, and handsome. His jet black hair was perfectly straight and stood up giving him a daring look, his dark eyes and soft lips made his face all too appealing.

Julia shook her head; Simon would find it hysterical if he knew just how much she appreciated his lithe body. Anyways it wouldn't do to inflate his head any further, he already possessed a god-complex like no other.

Once the helicopter had moved off they both moved to the house, which was a fifteen-minute ride on the dirt bikes that were hidden in tall brush. Julia breathed in the sweet air and rode. In a matter of hours they would be on a flight to Paris and then the killing would begin. Not only Roger, but also Rogers whole family… just for the fun of it; just because she was Julia Throne and she liked to pull the trigger.

Still, the Covenant saw beyond her mere assassination skills and in the past month they had begun bringing her into Rambaldi-verse. Then it hit her, why the name had seemed familiar. Andrian Lazeray was a Russian contact, but more importantly a famed Rambaldi follower. Contemplating the new connection she smiled, the CIA would love this new information, anything to keep them ahead of the Covenant.

**AN: If you have any sort of thoughts please tell me! PLEASE! (Yes I know I'm begging) Thanks for reading! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Vaughn was leaving the JTF building feeling more alive than he had felt in months. He felt as though he finally had a purpose again, he was so close to getting Sydney back. No matter what Kendall said about her Project Christmas programming, he believed it was real and reliable.

Sydney was still there even if she was a little buried in Julia Thorne. The name still gave him shivers; he hated to think of the torture that came with brainwashing. The sensory deprivation, the electric shock, the withholding of food and water. Sure Sydney had been through a lot, but if she had gone through that, Vaughn had no doubt Sydney might be changed. How changed, was the question he was asking him self as he navigated his car through the night to his apartment.

When he came in the first thing he noticed was the lack of Laurens things. Her purse, keys and shoes were gone. She should be back from work by now. For a moment he was relieved, he didn't know how to deal with her. She was a nice girl, everything he had once wanted in a woman. She was normal, from a good family, she even had a normal desk job with NSA, and she was the official liaison between the NSA and the CIA, so there would be no need to secrecy as there had been with Alice.

Maybe the reason he had fallen her was because she had never minded when he talked about Sydney. She had helped him, even took him to see Barnett when she had realized he was talking to his dead girlfriend. She had removed all the alcohol from his cupboards, made sure he didn't go to the bar on the corner. All in all she had been the perfect friend, and then two months ago something changed.

One morning he woke up and Sydney was gone, really gone. She wasn't in bed beside him, of course some part of him knew she had never been there in the first place but the illusion of her had been so real. He usually woke up and started the day by asking her how she slept, in the first months after her death she responded readily every morning. But as he became sober and happier her voice faded until he woke up one morning and a new voice answered him, a British voice.

Instead of Sydney's brown hair there was a blonde in his arms. He had become distressed, run outside and tried to hear her voice. But she was silent and she didn't answer his calls. Lauren found him hours later sitting in the warehouse where he had held many secret meeting with Sydney. He had spent five hours trying to hear her, picture her in his head, but the image was fuzzy, the details smudged, her voice forgotten.

Lauren had stayed with him, and he had become happy with her, they lived a good life. He hoped she would understand, but whether of not Sydney came back with him, he was going to leave Lauren. He couldn't be with anyone as long as Sydney was alive, he belonged with Sydney.

Still confused as to why she was gone, he entered the kitchen and poured himself a coke. On the fridge was a note:

_Michael, _

I got a call from Lindsey and he wants me in Vienna for Sloane's last debrief. I should be back by the end of the week. I wont be able to call, he has me staying in a secure location. 

_xoxo, _

Lauren  
P.S. 

Don't forget to pick up the laundry and it is your turn to do the dishes:)

Her handwriting was loopy and there where little hearts over the i's. He sighed; she would be gone for a week. Kendall had promised to call when he had a way to get him in. He hoped he would be gone before Lauren would be back, he couldn't think of how to explain the situation to her.

Vaughn picked up his coke and headed into his bathroom and opened the closet, on the top shelf there was a box with Sydney's things that he had salvaged from the fire. He pulled it down and went back into the living room, turning on the stereo on the way. He sat and opened the box, taking out a picture of her. This was the way he spent most nights on his own, but tonight was different. He didn't feel the usual despair, but tonight he felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in ten months.

Examining the pictures he realized how truly different Sydney had looked in the new pictures. She had looked more relaxed, even more dangerous. It was something in her eyes that looked unfamiliar, and that scared Vaughn. Through everything, Sloane, Noah, Irina, and even through Danny's death, Sydney had retained a sense innocence about her, and that was what the pictures lacked; innocence.

The music grew heavy; as did his eyelids and Vaughn's mind turned to the night he had lost her. It wasn't a place he let himself go anymore, but with the knowledge that she was alive it seemed ok to explore that memory.

It had rained that night when he got a call from a frantic Weiss, he had been crying but for a minute Vaughn hadn't recognized that hick in his voice as a sob. All that his best friend said was, "Get to Sydney's apartment, there's been a fire."

Vaughn had never considered that Sydney could be more than hurt, maybe a little bruised and burned. But that all changed when he had arrived at the scene everyone was moving in slow motion. He remembered calling out for Sydney, screaming her name, trying to find her in the crowd gathered outside the burned down apartment.

At first he didn't realize that she had been in the fire, but as soon as he saw Jack he knew. Jack had looked sick, no longer stoic but a man lost in utter despair; at that moment Vaughn had realized something was really wrong.

He had ripped past the police and run into the smoldering house, everything was filled with soot and water. The roof was almost gone, the walls had all but collapsed, and it was in absolute disarray. Still he had called, "Syd… Sydney?"

He had run to where her bedroom had been, and his heart died right there. CSU had taped off the area and a slender man and woman in green '**LAPD-CSU**' jackets where gathering what looked like ashes… Sydney's ashes.

He hadn't noticed that he had fallen to the floor until Eric found him moments later. He still had tears in his eyes, which where now mirrored in Vaughn's.

He had pulled him up and carried-dragged him out of the burnt remains of the house. Outside Will had been placed on a gurney, blood seeping from his abdomen. He looked pale and near death, but motioned for the paramedics to stop as Jack approached.

Vaughn was just close enough to hear, "Francie was the second double. She tried to kill me…" he stopped, coughing violently.

Before Eric could restrain Vaughn he charged after the gurney as it began to move towards the ambulance, "Where is Sydney?"

Will grimaced, "I don't know what happened. Franc…. The double stabbed me and I was in the tub… they crashed in later, but I don't remember anything else." He coughed again and this time the paramedics moved and refused to stop for further questioning.

Vaughn wanted to run after him, but this time Jack stopped him, "They've confirmed the ashes inside belong to Sydney and Francie." This didn't sound like the legendary Jack Bristow, he sounded defeated.

After that the rest of the night was a blur, everything had happened too quickly to comprehend. The media was fed a story about faulty gas lines, more tests were run on the remains, which were too badly burned to even do a dental comparison.

The only clear thing in his memory was the grueling task of going through the house searching for anything that had survived. There was a sweater, a few guns, a hairbrush, a few odds and ends, a treasured box of photos, her diary (though it was mostly unreadable due to fire damage), her mother's amiable earrings, and the charred remains of a first edition of Alice In Wonderland.

Then the days and weeks blurred with the help of drink and pills. With his head heavy and eyes closing Vaughn stretched out and escaped into a dream filled sleep.

The bed underneath me was soft and warm, opening my eyes I saw the woman I loved. Everything was right, the way it was supposed to be. Sydney was laughing, her bedroom was filled with the soft morning light. Beautiful colors filled the room and then my vision flashed.

I was standing at the altar in a skillfully decorated church, dressed in an expensive tux. Music wafted through the air, the bridal march. I felt myself smile, my first genuine smile in a long time. And there she was, walking gracefully on Jack's arm, even he looked happy. The dress she wore was long and marvelously embroidered, her dark hair up in a bun with stray wisp framing her face.

I felt my happiness surge; I was filled with content and utter peace. Now I was holding her hand, slipping a gold band onto her delicate hands.

I bent to kiss her and when I drew away I was starring at a different woman. It was still Sydney, but changed. The church is deserted, her brown hair had gone and was replaced by blonde strands; the dress had turned into black tactical gear. And her hand, which had been in mine only second ago, held a gun pointed at my chest.

"Sydney?" My voice sounded hurt, tears standing in my eyes.

"Sydney is gone, you gave up on her!" The voice didn't belong to the Sydney I knew, it was filled with hate and anger, not one touch of compassion.

Then without a blink of an eye she pulled the trigger and I felt my body burn. Such unbelievable pain erupted in my chest and lungs. The black light flashed and my vision turned black and white all color gone from the world. She stood there, leaning over my body smiling with malice.

She turned and left, meeting a tall man dressed in black at the door. Taunting me she turned back and winked, then kissed the man with all her strength. I was left on the floor of the church bleeding to death. My vision went black.

When I opened my eyes I stood in the middle of a deserted beach, still in my tux soaked in water, drowning on dry land. My vision blurred but for a moment I could see my friends surrounded me. Eric, Dixon, Jack, Marshall, Carrie, Kendall and even Lauren stood near me. But no one moved to help me as the tide rose and I felt myself pulled toward the water. In that moment of panic I recognized the place, it was the Santa Monica beach where we had scattered Sydney's ashes.

As I fought to stay on the beach I screamed for them to hear me to help me, but instead Lauren moved, and from a ceramic jar threw ashes into the wind, my ashes. I was at my own funeral.

Again I tried to scream but the wind stole my voice and I was lost in the horror of it all. I was so close, why didn't they look at me, see I wasn't dead. I was ten feet away; those couldn't be my ashes. Breath came in harsh gasps; it was almost painful to inhale because the air I breathed wasn't air but water.

Then I was pulled toward the surf, struggling against the surge of the waves, which broke on my shoulders and back. The undercurrent grabbed at my arms, hauling me under the water, taking me into the deep of the ocean. Glancing back to shore I witnessed everyone I love leave, one by one, until I was left alone to battle with the arms taking me to the deepest regions of the sea.

The water guided me and when I was in the deepest ridge of the ocean I saw a castle of black. The doors where opened for me, almost magically. And there inside, on the Throne of the Deep sat Julia Thorne, with her male consort.

Her long gown of the darkest blue hugged every curve; her hair was long, to her mid back, and so black that it was almost sapphire. Even her eyes, once brown had become bottom less black ravines, her skin a transparent white.

She spoke but didn't use her mouth, "Welcome to my Kingdom."

That voice sent shivers down my spine, so deprived of life it was. I had no response, which made her smile, a hideous smile. She had lost none of her perfection but death was immersed in that smile.

She stood and glided to me like a wraith, taking my hand in her freezing ones, "Follow me, I must show you the truth." I nodded and followed down steep stairs, and through deep dungeons. Until we came to the center of the palace, there in the core was a glass tomb.

"I can go no farther." She stopped, but pushed me onward. I didn't look back as I walked to the crypt. I came to it and looked down, drawing in a sharp cry. Sydney lay there, frozen in the glass sarcophagus. She looked dead, but something told me she still lived.

"The truth is buried, but not lost; it is hidden but not forgotten; it is trapped but not powerless, it is frozen but never dead." Julia's voice rang out in the enclosed chamber, as clear as though she stood right next to me.

Finding my voice I turned to the dark queen, "Why do you fear her?"

"Because she may be dead to the world but not to love." It was an honest statement; I couldn't find it in my heart to resent this sinister woman. So I nodded and walked to her, taking her icy hands in mine.

The Queen of Hell turned her face up to mine and gave me the kiss of parting with her lifeless lips.

Vaughn woke up with a start; the dream fresh on his mind, body coated in a cold sweat. Breathing deeply he jumped when he heard his cell phone ring from the bedroom.

Hoping up he jogged to the dresser, and picked up. 

"Vaughn."

"Agent Vaughn, this is Kendall. Pack your bags your going to Paris, and stop at JTF. Marshall and I are waiting for you to go over the mission specs."

"I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Good."

Vaughn hung up and ran a hand through his hair; looking at his watch he shook his head. It was three in the morning, another night of little sleep. He walked to the shower and turned it on, hot water streaming from the showerhead assaulting his back, trying to forget the disturbing dream.

It was already fading, and the scraps that remained made little sense. But the feeling of darkness and hopelessness remained in the pit of his stomach.

After the shower he grabbed a small duffle bag, and packed the essentials. He was almost out the door when he realized that if Lauren got back before he did she would find it strange that he had left without leaving a note.

Taking out a pen he wrote a quick note,

_Recon Work. Talk to you when I get back. _

_Vaughn_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Please review if you like it… it makes me work harder and faster when you guys review! **

**Warning: Adult Situation in this chapter! **

**Chapter Four**

**Part 1**

JTF was dark except for the main briefing room, where Marshall sat sleepily with a very agitated Kendall, who glanced at his watch every few minutes.

"You know I have never been here so late at night, I mean I've been here, but sleeping… I mean it is spooky, like anyone could jump out say 'BOO'.. Boy that would be scary."

"Marshall…"

"I'll just be quiet now."

"Thank you."

Another five minutes of uncomfortable silence passed before Vaughn strode in, bag in hand. Marshall gave a smile and quick wave, and then stood up.

"Well I don't know where you are going… which is pretty unusual, I mean I always know…. But I guess I don't get to know now… unless you tell me, but you aren't going to tell me now…"

"Marshall, get on with it. Vaughn's plane is in an hour." Kendall sounded annoyed and tired.

"Right!" He lifted a pair of glasses off the table and passed them to Vaughn. "These look like your run of the mill glasses, but in fact they have a little camera in them. When ever you are ready to take a picture just press this little button here," he pointed to the side of the frame.

Vaughn nodded, and waited for Marshall to continue. Marshall stood there for a moment before remembering to continue.

"Next up we have this ring," Marshall brought out a ring from his pocket, "this baby is brand new, a one of a kind."

He took a moment to admire the ring, which appeared to be gold with sapphires. Then catching the evil look Kendall was sending his way he kept going.

"This ring is one of the most untraceable communication devices in the world. You see it runs on a totally different frequency, than anything we have ever seen. Transmits in coded bursts every five seconds, in other words it is a perfect way to covertly communicate. Oh, and it gives off your exact location. Director Kendall will be able to hear you the entire time, and when he needs to get in contact with you the ring gives a low voltage shock. This brings to the last and finale device," he brought out a cell phone.

"Completely untraceable. You dial speed-dial one and you get Director Kendall. Speed dial two and you get a Washington Mutual Teller, because to get one to work you need to do two… and speed dial three is Pizza Hut, because I got hungry last night…" Marshall smiled and did a little bow.

"Thanks Marshall. You can go now, Agent Vaughn and I need to discuss last minute details."

Though he seemed a bit hurt, Marshall left the room and a minute later there was an audible squeak as he lay down on the inflatable chair, and covered himself with a Scooby-Doo blanket.

Kendall waited a moment before starting, "You are going in as Marc de Chant, a French mobster. You need to have the head of organization killed, and Simon and Julia come highly recommended. You will be meeting Simon Walker, Julia's partner. They are currently on a job in Paris and you are meeting with him prior to the job. Ask to view them on the job, and Simon should let you. Julia never meets the clients so you don't have to worry about that."

"What… I want to see her!' Vaughn was confused.

"I have talked to experts and they say that people who have been brainwashed do not handle the past well. Seeing your face will confuse her, make her enraged. We can't risk it. You will see her; she is very hard to miss. But you can't meet her face to face." Kendall stood brought out paper and a needle.

"What is that for?" Vaughn asked gesturing at the needle.

"That is for you. The Security Council agreed with me when I said that it was too dangerous to let you retain the ability to spread this knowledge. So this shot acts as a bookmark in your mind, when you get back we will be able to monitor what you do with the knowledge. Also this gives you the choice of erasing your memories, but that would have to be your own decision. The formula has been altered to encompass the last two days as well. This is the only way we will let you go."

"How can I be sure this won't remove the memories?"

"You will be free to do as you like, keep the memories or give them up. These documents state as much, read them over and sign it, and I will give you the shot."

Vaughn starred at the papers, skimming. His heart was hammering; he just hoped Kendall wouldn't betray him.

"Fine, I agree to these terms." He took the pen and signed his name.

Kendall stood and walked over to his end of the table; pulling up Vaughn's sleeve he pricked his skin and injected the serum into his blood stream. Vaughn breathed in deeply and rolled his sleeve down.

"The details are on the plane. Have a safe trip Agent Vaughn." Kendall stood, shook his hand and left the room.

_I am so close to you Syd. Just a few more hours and we will be together. _

**Part 2**

Vaughn loved private flights, they provided just enough amount of time to review the mission, and you didn't have to experience the presence of other people. People could be truly horrid, it seemed that no one in the world was courteous anymore. Everyone was a grade **A** sociopath, thinking of sociopathic people his thoughts turned to the delicate issue of trust Kendall.

It was obvious that he had his own agenda, but how far would he go to remain in control? But before he could continue on the train of thought, a voice came over the intercom and the pilot informed him that they would be taking off momentarily.

Vaughn sighed, trying to quiet his thoughts but it didn't seem to be working, his mind was screaming, pure chaos. Take-off wasn't his favorite part of the flight, as a matter of fact he hated take-off. It was the idea of the runway running out and that nothing-ness as the plane lifted into the Stratosphere.

His hands turned clammy and he gripped the seat arms, until he felt a little safer. So much for being an international free-less spy, he had a hard time flying.

When the plane was at a comfortable cruising altitude he closed his eyes thinking of Sydney, and how nice it would be to see her again, even if she was a bit different. Her name alone made him feel that familiar lump in his throat. He missed her voice, missed it to the point that he had gone into the CIA database and downloaded mission recordings and the numerous debriefs.

When Jack had found out he had erased them all. It was that day that Vaughn had turned to the bottle for support. From there it had only gotten worse, the alcohol and the anti-depressants had almost killed him, and some days he wished they had.

Subsequent to that he didn't need drugs to see and talk to Sydney; then he had left for months at that point. He traveled the world searching, finding contacts that owed him favors, but there was no trace. He had come home detached from reality and Lauren had saved him. She had shown him it was ok to live, but now all that didn't matter. Sydney was alive, and he was going to save her.

The plane glided through the night sky but the sun was hidden somewhere in the horizon. Tired and thirsty for whiskey, Vaughn adjusted his seat and accepted sleep that tugged at him, thankfully this time it was a dreamless sleep.

**Part 3**

MysteryMan73: I haven't found anything new… how about you?

SphinxMom47: No, nothing on this end. What do we do we do now?

MysteryMan73: I still want to check out Singapore, there was some activity there last week, could be Freelancer.

SphinxMom47: No problem I have a friend in the city… How are you holding up?

MysteryMan73: I'm alright, I just wish there was more I could do, I am stuck here with The Firm… not helping all that much.

SphinxMom47: Don't be foolish; at least we know she is alive… I think someone saw us together in Toronto… can't be sure though… be careful!

MysteryMan73: It is probably nothing… but I will keep a lookout.

SphinxMom47: I miss you…

MysteryMan73: I miss you too… is there any chance you are going to Bull country in the next three days, I am there on Tuesday…

SphinxMom47: No, I am snowed in, stuck in the Mother Land…. I have been wondering… how is my Russian Boy?

MysteryMan73: Still here, I'm trying to keep him from being transferred to Camp H. He is waiting for you, I believe.

SphinxMom47: I think I can come get him, not yet though, too much risk. Kat is working on an extraction strategy. He really is a good man; he might be able to help us.

MysteryMan73: Do you want me to question him?

SphinxMom47: Yes, but do it carefully. Some things are going on here with Kat; I think I can get to him very soon.

MysteryMan73: Then what?

SphinxMom47: Then he uses his talents to help us find Freelancer.

MysteryMan73: Is he really that good?

SphinxMom47: Yes.

MysteryMan73: Can we trust him?

SphinxMom47: No matter what he says about his 'flexible loyalties' he is loyal to me. If I ask he will help, of that you can be sure of.

MysteryMan73: Good, I will wait to hear from you, same contact procedure?

SphinxMom47: Yes. Take care. … I love you.

MysteryMan73: I love you too. Be careful. Bye.

SphinxMom47: Signed off at 12:47:12 AM

MysteryMan73: Signed off at 12:47:20 AM

**Part 4**

Jack leaned back in his car seat and pondered Irina's words. How soon would she be able to get Sark out, and would it make a difference. Whatever the case was, he hoped Irina was right.

Breathing in a deep yawn, he turned on the car ignition and pulled out from under an overpass, and turned onto the freeway to make his way home. Only feeling slightly better, talking to Irina always made things a bit better. She was right; at least they knew that Sydney was alive. It had been hard finding the information, but with torture and money the right people had informed him that Sydney had not died in the fire.

What Jack couldn't understand was why Sydney hadn't contacted him in the almost eleven months since her disappearance. This could mean one of two things, one was that she was in deep cover, or two that she was dead and his sources had lied. Personally he preferred the former to the latter.

**Part 5**

Somewhere over the Atlantic Vaughn awoke and began his mission review.

His name was Marc de Chant, a wealthy French mobster with past connections to the Alliance and K-Directorate. Scanning the page he stopped at the mission protocol.

After landing at CDG he would be escorted to a meeting facility, where he would meet with Simon Walker. During the meeting he was to offer Walker 1.3 million dollars to infiltrate a lab in Prague and steal numerous bio-chemical weapons. Familiarizing him self with the data, Vaughn scanned over Walkers history.

Until a year ago he had been a low caliber thief, working for private organizations. Then something had changed, Walker had disappeared for a few months, and when he came back he was working big jobs. At the bottom of the page a hand-written note from Kendall explained that in the last month Simon had been Julia's primary partner.

Vaughn was still confused, and scanned the documents again. Whom did Sydney work for? Nothing in the information had described the organization, except to say that they were becoming big players.

Laying the file aside he unbuckled his seat belt and stretched. Glancing around the cabin he stood and walked to the small galley. Grabbing water and a cold sandwich, he wandered to the suitcase Kendall had given him.

Inside he found two suits, both dark and expensive, they looked like something Sark would where. Reluctantly he changed into them, and tried to appear rich and evil. Reaching into his bag he pulled out that glasses Marshall had given him and put them on. With his alias complete he settled in to his seat and glancing at his watch, only another hour to go.

Picking up the file again he flipped to the last pages. There were at least a dozen different pictures of Sydney with the tall man. Scanning them Vaughn felt jealously swell inside him. Most of the pictures showed them embracing, or kissing. Studying them quietly he read the bottom caption, once again in Kendall's handwriting, 'Simon Walker and Julia Thorne'.

He tossed the file aside, not wanting to look at the disturbing images. Whatever was ahead of him, he had to be ready.

**Part 6**

"Ms. Thorne?"

"Yes."

"We need to meet, in the morning. La Rochelle."

"What is this in regards to?"

"Your employment within our organization."

"Fine… But not La Rochelle. St. Malo, North of Rennes, at 9am tomorrow morning."

"Alright."

"Goodbye."

Julia snapped her cell phone shut and sat up, letting the warm covers slip off her shoulders, exposing them to the air-conditioned room. If she wanted to be in St. Malo by 9, she would have to leave now, it was a five-hour drive from Castelló to the coastal town in France.

She moved to slip out of the king sized bed, but the possessive arm clasped tightly around her waist stopped her.

"Where are you going?" Simon pulled her back, his grip strong and firm.

"San'ko wants to see me in St. Malo, I thought I'd drive up there and then drive to Paris to meet you." She tried once more to remove herself from his arms, but he didn't relent.

"I'll fly you. Don't go, it is 2 bloody o'clock in the morning, too early to drive." He was pulling her closer to himself, placing tentative kisses on her exposed shoulders.

"I need to clear my head, I'm going to drive." She leaned her head close to his and nipped at his bottom lip. "I'll see you in Paris."

Simon, sensing there was no way to win, released her and turned over, adjusting the pillow under his head. "Behind Garde du Nord, 10pm; don't be late."

She grinned, "Am I ever late…?"

He chuckled and grabbed her hips as she stood, growling and pulling her back, "Speaking of being late, I don't think San'ko would mind if you were half an hour late."

Julia laughed and straddled his lithe body. Running her slender fingers over his muscular chest and down to the waistband of his boxers, "Only half an hour…" leaning down she let out a throaty whisper right next to his ear, "you disappoint me."

Swiftly he turned her over, using his weight as an advantage to pin her to the bed, covering her smirking mouth with his own, his hands skimming over silk and lace. Moving to all the spots that drove her crazy, his mouth shifting to that sensitive spot behind her ear.

Their bodies moved deftly, both lost in passion, fingers interlaced, tongues dueling for dominance. The heavy scent of lust filled the lavish bedroom, dark moans and hard breathing the only audible sound in the Spanish night.

Until that one moment of unimaginable glory and ecstasy, her guttural cry rang out, stifled in the curve of his shoulder. For a few moments there was silence and then movement from the bed as she rose. Slipping on a silk robe she turned back to the bed to kiss Simon farewell.

"See you in Paris." His voice was soft and sleepy.

She nodded moving to the bathroom to run a shower.

With the spray pounding her back, jolting her awake, out of the trance she was in.

She was intrigued, why would San'ko want to see her?

Maybe he finally trusted her enough to tell her the Covenants endgame, or maybe this was just another message from the illustrious 'Leader' of the Covenant.

Whatever it was, hopefully it would be useful to the CIA. At the thought of Kendall she felt Julia momentarily leave and a disgusted Sydney emerge. But this was nothing new; Sydney was being remembered more and more these days.

She grabbed the tiled wall, looking for support that wasn't there, trying to keep the bile from rising in her throat. It was moments like this that really terrified Sydney; moments when she realized she had almost no control over Julia.

Breathing deeply she closed her eyes, attempting to shut her mind to Julia, which hurt more than letting her out. But it was necessary if she wanted to get a firmer control on her body.

By shutting Julia out, Sydney was forcibly overriding the brainwashing that had been hardwired into her. Little by little she would lose the cold-hearted assassin, and invoke the old Sydney Bristow. Of course it would take a few session of electrotherapy to fully wipe out that confident laugh, and deadly smirk.

The frightening thing was that Sydney didn't know what fragments of her past self remained to fill the hole Julia would leave; nor did she know if she really wanted Julia to leave.

When Julia was in control Sydney felt powerful, confident, and deadly. As much as she hated to admit it, in some twisted part of her being she admired Julia Throne for her skill.

Her body shook for a moment, Sydney sensed that she wouldn't win the battle tonight, and relinquished control to Julia.

It was hard to say on what level Sydney was a different person from Julia, both women were aware of each other, and they fought each other constantly. Whatever had been the Covenants initial intent, Julia was becoming a state of mind, the darkness of Sydney exploited to expansive levels.

Turning off the water she stepped out and dried off, blow drying the blonde hair, and applying light makeup to cover several fresh bruises, from Simons ministrations, along her jaw.

Pulling on a pair of dark blue jeans with a tight fitting tee shirt and a jean jacket, she grabbed an already packed duffle bag and headed out of her Villa to her favorite car, the sporty black Aston Marin.

**A/N: PLEASE R/R! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Here the next part, hope you like it… always if you read, please review! **

**Chapter Five **

**Part One **

SphinxMom47: You need to send Russian Boy to Camp next week.

MysteryMan73: Are you sure?

SphinxMom47: Yes, I am ready.

MysteryMan73: All right, but be careful.

SphinxMom47: I will.

MysteryMan73: Do you want me to explain to him?

SphinxMom47: No, it is better to leave him in the dark for now.

MysteryMan73: OK, I'll take care of it. Miss you.

SphinxMom47: If things go according to plan we might see each other quiet soon… until then … I am thinking of you.

MysteryMan73: I know. Goodnight.

SphinxMom47: Good morning to you.

MysteryMan73: Signed off at 9:53:22 PM

SphinxMom47: Signed off at 9:54:47PM

Irina closed the laptop and looked up into her sister's face, "He'll take care of it."

Katya nodded and moved to the window and starred out into the dark night, "I hope you are right about him."

"Who? Jack or Sark?"

Her sister's shrewd eyes didn't leave the glass but Irina felt the tension in the room. "Both… either…"

"I trust both men explicitly, they won't let me down." She sounded sure, but inside doubt was eating at her insides. Sark had been jailed for over ten months; it was hard to tell where his allegiance would lie.

Katya pulled away from the window, "Fine."

Irina was tired, days and nights of not sleeping and worrying about Sydney had taken a toll. But now her searching was over, it was up to Sark to find Sydney. It frightened her to leave it in someone else's hands, but she had no choice all her contacts were used up.

She picked up the black pack and strapped in on her back, entering the adjacent compartment.

Katya already had the pack secured to herself, and with a glance at Irina she flung the door open. The cabin immediately depressurized and the Derevko sisters jumped out of the private jet into the back night, somewhere over the French countryside.

**Part Two **

St. Malo was like any other French town, filled with culture and a boulangier on every corner. That particular morning, two men in crisp business suits occupied the corner table in one of the many Cafes, one reading the paper and the other constantly checking the perimeter and stirring his coffee.

The larger man had broad shoulders, long fingers (which gripped the paper), a large nose, and hair to his shoulders, secured in the back; giving him an overall burly appearance. On his left, sat a man who distinctly reminded all of a weasel, he had short dark hair and his face was permanently set in a grimace. He had a noticeably nervous twitch in his leg and a looked over all perplexed, "What if she recognizes me?"

"She won't."

"Ha," the weasel let out a haughty laugh; "I don't know I let quite an impression last time we met."

"I'm sure you did," these words rang with a distinct quality of a Slavic language, emphasis on the vowels and a leisurely pace.

The weasel reached across the table a picked up a sugar cube dropping it in the coffee, and continuing to stir, "So you have a lot of faith in Mavejik…"

"Yes, Mr. Cole. It would seem that I do, " the relaxed man abandoned his newspaper as the door to the Café swung open and a woman with blond hair and deadly eyes walked in.

Both men stood and watched her as she approached, Cole trying to appear nonchalant and Sanko grinning, "It is good to see you Julia." Pronouncing it 'U-la' in a distinctly Russian manner, and taking her smaller hand in his.

"Sanko," she leaned over the table that separated them and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

Remaining close for a moment he whispered, "You look wonderful as always," then releasing her hand, his eyes turned to the weasel, "this is my associate Mckenas Cole."

Julia didn't miss a beat and held out her hand, "It is a pleasure to meet you, my name is Julia Thorne."

Cole visibly relaxed and grinned in his most malicious fashion, "Yes, yes. I am quite familiar with your," he paused and cocked his head to one side, "_work_."

With the pleasantries over Sanko turned to Julia, "I'm sorry for the short notice, I know you have to be in Paris tonight but this couldn't wait."

Julia nodded and sat down, crossing her legs and lacing her fingers together.

"This will be your last job with Mr. Walker, our benefactor has decided it is time to bring you into our endgame. A promotion, if you will."

"You mean Mr. Cole?"

Cole let out cackle then shook his head, "No not me, but I do report to our employer."

Julia nodded and turned her attention back to Sanko, "You could have told me this over the phone."

Sanko thoughtfully stroked his bottom lip and shook his head, "I wanted you to meet Mr. Cole… he is your contact now, I am afraid our relationship has come to an end."

Rolling her eyes she began to play with a blond wisp of hair, "So what's the new gig?"

The weasel rubbed his hands together and leaned forward, "I'm happy you asked my dear… because I'm going to tell you," Cole came off sounding like an annoying game show host form the 70s, " You and I will be working on retrieving and putting to use Rambaldi memorabilia."

The tone in which he said it made it seem as though she just won a brand new car, and microwave, along with a years supply of bacon.

Julia looked momentarily puzzled but then smirked, sending chills down both men's spines, "And why would you need an assassin for this job?"

Cole looked disturbed but sneered in response; "Lets just say our employer has taken special interest in you."

Julia nodded and sighed tucking a stray wisp of blonde behind her right ear. Cole, who had been busily stirring his coffee dropped the spoon with a clank and inhaled harshly. This was an all too familiar gesture.

Turning her eyes to his, Julia sent him a cold smile, "You look like you've seen a ghost Mr. Cole."

He shook his head then rose quickly, "It was a pleasure Ms. Throne."

In seconds he and Sanko were gone, leaving Julia alone to ponder the new developments.

**Part Three**

As soon as Marc de Chant's plane touched down in CDG he stood and adjusted his glasses, placed his overpriced black over coat on his arm and lifted his dark leather briefcase into his left hand. Inside Michael Vaughn's heart was hammering wildly, and his mind was racing.

Taxing to a private runway, the plane came to a gradual halt and the hack opened, and Monsieur Chant walked out to meet a fleet of black vehicles. Glancing around he didn't see Mr. Walker, so he casually made his way to the man that seemed to head the group.

"Bonjour, Je m'appelle Marc de Chant," seeing the man tense at the French, he switched to heavily accented English; "I come to meet Mr. Walker on matters of business."

"Yeah, I know who you are. Mr. Walker regrets to inform you he is running late, and asked me to see you safe to a private location," he man spoke with a strong accent of someone who had spent their life living in the slums of London, and had never been formally schooled in proper English, a typical brut.

Monsieur Chant nodded and the brut turned and led him to one of the black cars, opened the door for him and once he was fully in, slammed it shut and hit on the roof for the driver to go.

Alone in the back of the limousine Michael Vaughn pulled out his cell phone and pressed speed dial 1, after a few rings a familiar voice picked up, asked a question, to which he responded with memorized phrase, "I've arrived and all is well, be sure to collect my mail."

The voice responded with another standard phrase and then told him to stay safe.

**Part Four **

Back at JTF Kendall watched as Marshall up linked to the glasses and retrieved the pictures. Studying the face of the man that appeared he nodded to Marshall, "I'll need to the technology to do this from my office next time."

"Oh but I'm don't mind helping."

"Marshall I am afraid that the rest of the information is too sensitive to be handled in an open lab," he gestured to the glass walls and smiled.

As he turned and prepared to leave Marshall turned and looked at him quizzically, "Excuses me Sir, but is it true that you are leaving at the end of this mission?"

Kendall nodded again, "Dixon will take over as Director of this task force. Anyways, Have the tech on my desk by the end of today."

Leaving the Op-tech lab he walked directly into Jack Bristow.

"Oh, Jack I've been looking for you. I was asked to approve Sark's transfer to Camp Harris, why are you moving him?"

Jack looked pained for a moment, it was clear that he hated explaining himself to anyone, "I need information on Derevko's past operations and he wont talk, there is only so much _persuasion_ I can administer here… I thought I would let Alex at Camp Harris have a go."

Kendall paused for a moment then gave a curt nod, "I'll send the request through," he paused and starred Jack in the eyes, "look, Jack, once I am done tying up loose ends I'm out of here."

"Yes I know."

"Just watch your back around Lindsey, he doesn't like you."

"Thank you, I appreciate your concern, but it is unfounded… I can take care of Robert Lindsey."

Kendall shrugged and gave Jack an awkward pat on the shoulder, "It was good working with you."

"Likewise."

**Part Five **

After leaving the café Sanko had left Cole at the small airstrip and as soon as he got settled in his car he took out and untraceable phone and dialed his employer as instructed.

"How did she take the news?"

"The way Julia always takes news, with a smirk and nod of the head. You don't need to worry."

"Good, things are coming together now. Make sure Walker is taken care of, I want to see how far she has come from being Agent Sydney Bristow."

"Yes Sir. Anything else?"

"Yes. I have been given Intel that Mr. Sark is being transferred to Camp Harris, I want his convoy to be over taken and him be taken into custody with us."

"Yes sir, it will be taken care of."

"Good."

**Part Six **

The apartment Marc was taken to was furnished with dark tones of red, gold and was chic modern. From the moment he stepped through the door he could tell this was a thoroughly lived in place. A woman's scarf and gloves lay on the table near the door and a full ashtray was on an end table in the living room.

The Brut led him silently into what looked like a study and asked him to wait.

Once alone Vaughn set down his briefcase and tried to appear relaxed. Though wanting to stand and examine the items on the oak desk in front of him he took into account that the Brut had had no qualms about leaving him alone, so logically there had to be a camera somewhere hidden.

For a few moments he tried to pinpoint the location of the camera, but stopped as soon as he saw a small photo on one of the three bookcases in the room. Trying to appear casual he stood and walked slowly to the bookcase, as though to examine the collection of leather bound books.

As he approached he knew he hadn't been mistaken, it was a picture of Sydney. Unaware of the photographer she stood leaning on a railing looking out into horizon. The wind was blowing back the blonde hair and she looked mythological, an evil version of Artemis. As his eyes examined the picture he notices the hands that gripped the railing. One was firmly wrapped around the metal, and the other held a gun.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

Spinning around he found himself face to face with Simon Walker.

The upcoming post will take a while; I have school and AcDec so I don't much time to really write. Thanks to every single person that took the time to review, it truly means a lot to me that you did.

**PLEASE R/R! **


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